


Juliet's Husband

by Jojoinabox



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: AU, F/M, In Which Juliet has Second Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojoinabox/pseuds/Jojoinabox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romeo loves Juliet, and Juliet loves Romeo, that much is the same. But what might have happened if she'd gotten cold feet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Juliet

**Author's Note:**

> This is a piece I wrote for a creative writing class a few years back, in which I explored the changes that could happen to the plot if I made one major change: the marriage of Juliet and Romeo. What if Juliet had been reluctant to wed?  
> The structure of the piece is alternating POV's, which will be identified by the title of the chapter. The lengths of the sections are extremely variable, though.  
> Hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know, Romeo. I really don’t.” Juliet Capulet frowned, and crinkled her pert nose.  
Next to her on the stone bench, the handsome youth she was beginning to have doubts about marrying sighed in exasperation and stood.  
“You seemed quite sure of yourself last night, cara mia.” Romeo knelt to cup his true love’s face in his hands. “What happened to those sweet, sweet words made all the sweeter by that sweet voice which did compose them?”   
Juliet turned pink, and sheepishly began to pick at the scraggly excuse for a bouquet clutched in her cold fist. The line wasn’t one of Romeo’s best, but he was understandably stressed. With a gentle sigh of her own, the girl began to explain herself.  
“Well, you see, I was thinking. I turn fourteen on Lammas-day, which is only a couple of weeks away… could we not wait until then?” Juliet looked hopefully up at Romeo, whose brow was creased with puzzlement. Before he could protest, she barrelled on. “I know it’s simply an eternity away, but it’ll give us time to prepare. We’ll need somewhere to stay, of course, after we’re married. We can’t keep living separately, and I don’t think either of us will be welcome at the other’s home.” And an extra fortnight would also help Juliet get more comfortable with the idea of being a married woman, but she didn’t tell Romeo that. Thankfully, her panicked night-time musings seemed to be paying off; Romeo looked more mollified.  
“Very well, then, Juliet, my angel, my dear saint.” He leaned in to drop a chaste peck on his fiancée’s forehead. “A Lammas-day wedding we shall have! I’ll let the friar know our plans.” With that, he re-entered the chapel to talk to Friar Laurence. Relieved, Juliet placed her flowers next to her and leaned back on the cool stone. Last night, her whole world had flipped completely upside-down. Last night, she’d met Romeo Montague. It was hardly an auspicious event by anyone else’s standards—a dance, a pair of kisses and words of passion whispered into the night—but to an almost-fourteen-year-old girl who had never fallen in love before it was everything she’d ever dreamed of.


	2. Romeo

A few short hours later, Romeo was wandering the streets of Verona in search of his two closest friends, his cousin Benvolio and Mercutio, Prince Paris’ cousin. When he finally tracked them down, they were discussing, as per usual, this time about which of them was the more hot-tempered.   
“You, Benvolio, have quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, just because he woke up that stupid dog of yours! Didn’t you also fight with another man for tying his new shoes with old laces? And you call me quarrelsome? Ha!” Mercutio jabbed his friend gently in the shoulder, eliciting a short grunt.  
“Well, if I was as quick to argue as you are, I’d have people betting on my death within an hour!”   
At Benvolio’s quick retort, Mercutio laughed heartily. He was about to say something in reply, but was stopped by something around the corner, just out of Romeo’s vision. Loud arguing ensued between Mercutio (whom he knew was actually the hotter head) and a third party. As Romeo approached the quarrel, the other man was quickly identified as Tybalt Capulet. There had never been any love lost between the two young men; their particular enmity was even stronger than that between their houses. No-one was entirely sure why this was, but Romeo had always said it was because the Capulet was an arrogant bastard. Tybalt apparently refused to talk about Romeo at all. Talking to him, however, was much less of a problem. As he saw the Montague round the corner, Tybalt dismissed Mercutio with a wave of his hand.   
“Well, peace be with you, sir; here comes my man.” He stepped past the prince’s spluttering cousin, whose undoubtedly witty comeback went completely unnoticed. Snarling, Tybalt continued: “Romeo, the hate I have for you can be said only one way—you are a villain.” Romeo’s brain raced. If Tybalt had sought him out specifically, it could only mean that he’d caught wind of the relationship he had with Juliet. The only question was: how much did Tybalt know? He tried to look as serious and unafraid as possible. He had a duty to his beloved now, and getting killed by her cousin was certainly not a part of it.  
“Tybalt, I have more reason to love you than to fight you. I am not a villain, so farewell.” Romeo made to leave, and drag his friends along with him, but Mercutio was spoiling for a fight, and he refused to let this golden opportunity slip by.  
“What are you doing, Romeo? Tybalt, are you just going to let him walk away? Hmm?” He shrugged Romeo’s hand off his shoulder and blocked the Capulet’s path. Tybalt looked at Mercutio slightly askance, and paused before speaking.  
“What do you want from me?”  
“Nothing, O King of Cats, but one of your nine lives. Will you fight me? Be quick, or you’ll have my sword about your ears!” Mercutio drew his rapier with a hiss of steel and held it under Tybalt’s nose. All was still for a moment. Tybalt’s cronies looked dumbfounded; Benvolio’s face mirrored the anxious horror that Romeo felt. Still, Mercutio silently challenged the stony Tybalt. Romeo was beginning to think that maybe they would get through the day without a fight when, suddenly, the Capulet drew his sword.  
“Very well, then. I am for you.”   
Romeo was the first to respond. “Mercutio! Put your sword away!” he cried, to no avail. His friend was completely ignoring him. He leaped between the pair, while Benvolio pinned Mercutio’s arms behind his back. The rest of the Capulet gang were nowhere to be seen. It all happened so fast that Romeo didn’t even realise Mercutio had been hit until he heard the cry behind him and saw Tybalt pull his sword from under Romeo’s arm, covered in blood. Immediately, the cad turned and fled. Turning around, Romeo saw Mercutio, collapsed in Benvolio’s arms and cursing both warring houses. He was bleeding heavily.  
“Why did you jump between us?” demanded Mercutio between clenched teeth. “It was only because of you that I was hurt.”  
“I—I thought it was for the best,” Romeo lamely stammered. He’d only tried to save his friend, and now his action was costing the same man his life.  
“Benvolio, get me inside. Please… Argh! I’m worm-food now… a plague on both your houses!”   
As Benvolio dragged his friend into the nearest house, Romeo felt all of his energy drain away, and he fell to his knees. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that before Benvolio reappeared, with grave news.  
“Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead.” He collapsed beside his cousin and began to weep. Romeo numbly put a comforting hand on Benvolio’s shoulder. Dead? He heard a noise, and looked up. Tybalt, white as a sheet, stood only a few feet away. Rage filled the young Montague as it never had before, and suddenly the right course was crystal clear. With teeth gritted and eyes blazing, Romeo stood. He stepped towards his enemy, and he drew his sword.


	3. Juliet

For two days following Tybalt’s death, Juliet refused to leave her bed. Only her nurse was allowed into the room, to offer the girl food that remained untouched and comfort that went unacknowledged. Out of all Juliet’s cousins, Tybalt had been the one who had taken her under his wing and watched over her. Despite the full six years between them, he was Juliet’s closest confidant and, until she met Romeo, she had assumed along with the entire family they’d make a match of it. Things were certain. Now she didn’t know at all what—or who—her future would hold. She knew one person it wouldn’t: Romeo Montague. After what he had done to Tybalt, there was no way she could marry him. Not anymore. Every time she so much as thought of the boy, Juliet was filled with rage. But deep, deep down, she thought she still might love him. Perhaps it was too harsh to say she’d never want to marry him? Oh, she wished she had never met that damned Montague! He made everything so… so confusing all of the time. She curled herself tighter around her knees. It still hadn’t quite sunk in yet, that Tybalt was gone and would never be coming back. She wondered if it ever would. All Juliet really wanted now was for things to go back to the way they were before, when everything was predictable. Certain. When Tybalt was alive. She squeezed her eyes, certain that if she moved she would crumble into a pile of dust and tears. She needed to be strong. She willed herself to be strong. And then she sobbed again. Maybe tomorrow she’d do it.


	4. Romeo

The tiny pebbles clattered as they struck the windowpane. “Pssst, Juliet!” Romeo hissed as he scooped up another handful of gravel. He prepared to toss it up at the window when he heard the latch move. He froze, hoping it was in fact Juliet and not her nurse, or worse—her mother. He hadn’t seen his would-be-wife in two whole days and, according to Benvolio, neither had anyone else. Romeo’s cousin had also informed him that for the “vicious slaying” of Tybalt Capulet, the young Montague was banished forever from Verona. So it was with more careful skulking than usual that he’d waited with Friar Laurence the past day and a half for Juliet to talk to him.   
The panes opened, and much to Romeo’s relief, it was indeed his young lover leaning over the balcony. Unfortunately, she didn’t look very glad to see him.  
“What do you think you’re doing?”  
“I—I need to talk to you, my sweet. I’m sorry about Tybalt, I really am, but he did start it—“  
“Go away, Romeo. I don’t want to talk to you.” She turned to go back inside.  
“Wait! Juliet!” At his cry, she looked back at the youth, irritation etched all over her pretty, tearstained face.  
“Do you want to get caught? You’re supposed to be banished, you know.”  
“Yes, dolce mio, I know. But… I want you to come with me.” Romeo pleaded with Juliet, trying to look as endearing as he knew how.  
“You want me to do what?! No, Romeo! Have you lost your mind? It’s thanks to you that my cousin is dead, and now you just expect me to run off with you? Go and be banished by yourself! I’m going to stay here. In Verona. And… and I’m going to marry someone else!”   
With that vicious parting stab, she flung herself back inside and slammed the window shut, leaving Romeo completely flabbergasted. This wasn’t playing out at all like he’d planned it to. Did Juliet not love him anymore? If she did, she’d have agreed to leave with him—wouldn’t she? Suddenly little less sure of himself, Romeo wandered back home in a daze to pack his things.


	5. Juliet

There was a soft knock on Juliet’s door. The girl peeked her nose out from under the blankets as the door opened and Lady Capulet glided in with all her finery and lavender scent trailing behind her. Not yet thirty, the mistress of the house was still very beautiful—and had the vanity to match. It was not hard, looking at her, to see where Juliet got her looks. Both had the same golden ringlets arranged perfectly over the same round, cherubic faces. Their long necks and pouty lips were identical, as were their perfectly curved figures.   
With her shrewd maternal eyes, Lady Capulet instantly took in the snivelling girl, the rumpled bed in which she was enfolded and the worry etched on the nurse’s face. Her greeting—“How now, Juliet!”—broke into the melancholy with a sharp note.  
“Still weeping for your cousin’s death? What are you trying to do, wash him from his grave with your tears? It won’t bring him back, you know.”  
“Let me weep,” Juliet mumbled miserably, burying herself further within the covers. Not about to be deterred, her mother sat on the side of the bed and wrenched the coverlet down so that Juliet’s face was visible.  
“If you really must do that, weep because that villain who slaughtered your cousin is still alive!”   
At Lady Capulet’s venom, Juliet sat up, still snivelling.  
“Villain?”  
“Ay, that villain Romeo.”  
“Oh.” Whilst her mother continued raving, Juliet’s eyes wandered to the dark window at which the ‘villain’ had just been throwing pebbles. She really hoped he would get away before Lady Capulet got to him. No-one, not even a cousin-murdering, heart-crushing Montague, deserved that.  
“However, I have joyful tidings for you, my girl!” finished up Lady Capulet, her face somehow transformed into a mask of happiness.   
“Those will be good to have right about now,” she muttered. “What are these tidings?”  
“Well, you have a very careful father, child, who to relieve you of your grief has sorted all this out, not that I knew what was coming, mind you…”  
“What? What?” Juliet leaned closer to her mother, her grief momentarily forgotten in the suspense.  
“On Thursday morning, the prince’s gallant cousin, County Paris, is going to marry you!”   
Lady Capulet could hardly contain her joy. Her daughter could hardly contain her shock. She had overheard her father making plans with someone—she had originally assumed that it was with Tybalt and her uncle, but now she realised it must have been Paris—for her marriage, but so soon? Her heart hammered and her ears stopped listening. By the time Lord Capulet entered the chamber to see Juliet’s reaction for himself, she had disappeared back into her pile of blankets.


	6. Romeo

Benvolio stopped just inside gates to the city, but Romeo walked through them. For a moment, they stood together in their awkwardness, then Romeo spoke. “I miss Mercutio.”  
“Me, too,” replied his cousin softly. There was another pause. Benvolio took a breath. “You did the right thing, coz.” Romeo smiled, but his eyes betrayed his uncertainty.  
“Benvolio, could I ask you a question?”  
“You already did.” He tried to grin wryly, but it just looked like a grimace.  
“You know what I mean.”  
“Of course you can.” Benvolio waited for Romeo to continue. Romeo waited too. Something Juliet had said was bothering him, and he couldn’t dismiss it however he tried.  
“Juliet Capulet… is she getting married soon?” He glanced up from the ground at Benvolio, who was looking puzzled.  
“Well, yes, though I don’t see why you’d care. It’s not as though she’s your precious Rosaline or anything.” Romeo had forgotten to tell his friends about Juliet; Benvolio must still be under the impression that his cousin was still infatuated with Rosaline, the girl over whom he’d pined for the last couple of months. There was no point in correcting him now, so Romeo let it slide and continued to interrogate him.  
“When? Soon? Who to?” Benvolio frowned, still not understanding Romeo’s line of inquiry.  
“Thursday. They just announced the banns this morning. She’s going to marry Paris, the prince’s cousin.” His look darkened. “Bloody Capulets are going to be in much higher favour with the law now, because of this.”  
Romeo didn’t rise to the bait, because he was busy thinking. Maybe, if he risked his neck to stop Juliet’s wedding, he could win her back. It was only the seed of a plan, but it was a good start. He had time to think it through anyway. Romeo placed a hand on his cousin’s shoulder.  
“Take care of yourself, coz.” At this, Benvolio grinned, wide and crooked as he always did.  
“Hey, I should be the one saying that to you!” He clapped a hand on Romeo’s shoulder to mirror the one clutching his. They stood like that a moment, then both arms dropped and the smiles faded. Romeo stepped back. “Arrivederci, il mio amico,” said Benvolio softly.  
“Vedivi più successivamente,” Romeo replied even more quietly, as he turned away from the city that had until now been his home.


	7. Juliet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the huge gap in posting! My laptop does weird things and wouldn't let me onto the site until now. So FINALLY, have some updates.

It was only Tuesday, and Juliet was thoroughly fed up with wedding preparations. Due to the immediate nature of the wedding, everything had to be sorted out _right now_ , which was only making things worse. So far that day, Juliet had ‘helped’ her mother decide on floral decorations for the church, the wedding breakfast menu and decorations for said breakfast, and had spent nearly three hours playing mannequin as a horde of dressmakers pricked and pulled at her wedding dress. Tomorrow was shoes. And they still needed to find her a proper snood. And supervise the cleaning of the house. And source proper attire for the servants. And… and… and… Juliet stopped listening to her mother’s voice swimming around her head. To the girl’s surprise, she realised that she was extremely glad to be rid of the deluge of maternal fussing, even behind the worry about living in a strange new home with a strange new man. Idly, she wondered where Romeo was now. If that boy had any sense at all, he’d be halfway to Mantua by now. Of course, sense wasn’t the first thing Juliet would credit him with. Neither was patience, for that matter. Gasping as the strings of her corset were pulled even tighter, she prayed that her former lover wouldn’t try anything reckless.


	8. Romeo

Romeo set up camp within sight of Verona, sat down facing the city, and began to plot.


	9. Juliet

Thursday was dawning, the beginning of Juliet’s life as a married woman. She watched the sun rise from the balcony; sleep had been frustratingly elusive. Feeling both introspective and pensive, she shut her eyes and focussed her attention on the gentle warmth beginning to creep over their lids, instead of the queasy churning of her stomach. Just a few hours longer. A few more hours and—then what? Juliet wished that she was someone else, someone who could do as she pleased instead of what she was told to do. Marriage… she wasn’t ready for this, she still felt like a child. Funny, how just a week ago she’d snapped at her mother for treating her as one. But what about Paris? What was he like? Would he be a good husband? Would she be a good wife? So many questions. No wonder she hadn’t slept. With a frustrated sigh, she went back inside. There was a lot to do before the ceremony.


	10. Romeo

As soon as Romeo felt the infant rays of sunshine upon his back, he set off for Verona. He’d racked his brains all night long, and for days before that, but he couldn’t come up with a single plan better than simply showing up at the church, tossing Juliet over his shoulder, and running like hell to Mantua. The best-case scenario was that he’d be presented with a golden opportunity and manage to improvise his way to success. The most likely was that he’d be arrested and, if he was very lucky, thrown in prison. He didn't want to think about the worst-case scenario. It was difficult for him to wrap his brain around how much danger he was getting himself into, as never in his nineteen years had the stakes been so high. Still, filled with youthful confidence (or stupidity, in Benvolio's words), the banished Montague hoisted his belongings onto his shoulder and walked towards the sound of church bells. He was going to save his beloved, and no-one was going to stand in his way.


	11. Juliet

Juliet could see her warped reflection in the large silver vase, but she didn’t recognise herself. She looked a lot older than she was, and certainly a lot older than she felt. She peered at the woman in the vase, trying to connect the image with herself, but her musings were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.  
“Juliet?” The voice was a man’s, unfamiliar but kind. “You don’t need to open the door. I’m not supposed to be here anyway.”  
“Paris?”  
“Yes, it’s me. How are you?”   
There was a muffled shuffling, as though he was leaning against the door. Juliet edged up to the oaken panel and pressed her fingertips to it.  
“I’m scared. I…” She stopped herself. Why was she revealing her secrets to this stranger? But he wasn’t just a stranger; within a few hours he would be her husband. Surely that was reason enough to confide in him? Juliet took a breath and continued. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be married. Ready for… all that. I was hoping that it could wait, at least until after Lammas Day. That’s my birthday. Oh, I’m so scared, Paris. So scared.” Juliet held back a sob and blinked back the beginnings of tears. On the other side of the door came only silence. She rested her forehead on the cool wood and whispered: “Paris?”  
“I’m here. Juliet, dearest, do you know, why I chose to marry you?”   
Juliet frowned, unsure of where Paris was going with this.  
“Because I’m beautiful?” she guessed.  
“Because you are strong. Most people don’t see it, I’ll wager. You aren’t a forceful woman, but you seem to withstand everything with such grace. I’m a powerful man, Juliet, with a lot of responsibility. I need a strong wife who can handle anything I can, and on whom I can depend—always. You are exactly the sort of wife I need, Juliet. You’re perfect. And yes, you are very beautiful, which made my decision that much easier.”   
Juliet could hear him smiling. She was smiling too. Even Romeo's many compliments couldn't compare to Paris' declaration. Romeo had called her an angel, a saint, all manner of celestial things she couldn't live up to. But strong? Dependable? That she could be.  
“Is that why the engagement was so short, then?”  
“Ah. That was my attempt at being cautious. I didn’t want to lose you to a quicker suitor. Of course, if I’d known you were so concerned about the wedding I would have asked for a longer betrothal. If you like, I can postpone it now. I’m sure I can come up with some reason—“  
“No, you don’t have to do that for me. I… I think I’ll be able to manage.” Somehow, Juliet was now a bit more comfortable with spending her life at Paris’ side than she had been a minute ago. Thoughtfully, she stroked the grain of the door.  
“Really? I mean, are you sure?” Paris was trying to hide his surprise and relief, but wasn’t doing particularly well. A small giggle escaped from Juliet’s mouth.  
“Yes, Paris, I’m sure. Now get to the altar so I can marry you before I change my mind.”   
He laughed at that, a short and hearty chuckle.  
“I knew you’d have it in you, my love. I’ll see you soon.”   
There was another rustle, then he was gone. Juliet moved away from the door, still smiling a little bit. Maybe she’d be alright, after all.


	12. Romeo

The crowd around the church was bigger than Romeo had expected, and far more tightly packed. This was the first big problem with his plan, and it was closely followed by the second. There was every possibility that one of the many people in the crowd would realise that it was Romeo Montague who was jostling in front of them. Hopefully the scruffiness he’d acquired the past couple of days and a low cap over his brow would be enough; it was the best disguise he had. The next big problem was getting inside. The guest list was incredibly exclusive; even in disguise as he was, there was no way he was setting foot inside that church. The only chance Romeo had to sweep Juliet off her feet—literally, most likely—would be the procession leading into the church. He pushed and shoved his way to the front line of people along the roadside, by some miracle (or perhaps the smell he was beginning to acquire) remaining incognito. The joyous sounds of the wedding procession filled the air; the crowd anxiously shifted, and Romeo lost his prized place. He could barely see the top of Juliet’s father’s head now. He gave one more gallant shove, and found himself with a perfect view of… well, hello there. This was unexpected.


	13. Juliet

The sudden dimness once the doors were closed took Juliet by surprise. Half blind, she leaned into her father as he walked her down the aisle. Lord Capulet stiffened slightly, taken aback by the unexpected sign of affection from his daughter, then settled into a smug cheerfulness. As Juliet's eyes adjusted to the gloom, she took her first look at the man who was about to become her husband. The first thing she noticed was that he was tall, and his shoulders were very broad. His hair was thick and dark like her father’s, but fell nearly to his shoulders in neat curls. He looked rather like Tybalt, in fact, except that where Juliet’s cousin had been all sharp edges and chiselled features, Paris was soft and round. His round face was beaming at his young bride, and his smile was so infectious that Juliet simply had to smile shyly back. She remembered what he had said about her, that she was strong. And though Juliet's hands trembled, she steeled herself. She could do anything, she reminded herself, if set her mind to it. She could even put herself into the hands of a stranger. Lord Capulet passed his daughter over to the cousin of the prince and, as Juliet placed her trembling hands into those of her new lord, she lifted her chin to look him square in the face. He looked right back with an expression that told her that everything was _right_.


	14. Romeo

Romeo smiled gently as he gazed into the most beautiful eyes in the world. Their mistress met his gaze for a moment, then turned her head away with some embarrassment. Romeo had come back to Verona for Juliet, and he had lost her, but in doing so he had discovered a treasure equally rare. Angelica. He opened his mouth to speak to her when a hand suddenly grasped onto his shoulder. Fearing the worst, he allowed himself to be spun around to face his captor.  
“What do you think you’re doing here?” hissed Benvolio.  
“Well, you see, I didn’t want to go to Mantua all by myself. So I was coming here… to see if…” Romeo darted a look at Angelica and decided that the truth could go hang itself. “If you wanted to join me. Come on, coz, it’ll be an adventure!” He put on his brightest grin, liking his impromptu idea more and more each second. It would be just like old times—almost. If only Mercutio could join them.  
But Benvolio just looked grave and shook his head.  
“I can’t go with you, Romeo. You’re banished, remember? You can’t inherit anymore. After you left, your father named me his heir. I can’t just leave him. Not now. You understand, coz? I’ll visit you in Mantua when I can, I promise.” The older Montague looked sheepishly at his cousin, slightly embarrassed at his recent change in fortunes. Romeo just frowned slightly as he digested this information. He nodded and gave his cousin a brief congratulatory pat on the back before Benvolio disappeared into the crowd again. He hadn’t considered what would happen to his inheritance at all. He wondered what being a valet paid…. He was shortly pulled from his musings by a silvery voice at his elbow.  
“Romeo, are you really banished?” Angelica was staring at him with wide eyes. Such lovely eyes.  
“Why, yes I am. I killed a man, you see.” At this, the girl gasped and looked simultaneously shocked and intrigued. “I didn’t intend to,” Romeo continued, “but the villain had just slaughtered my best friend—right before my very eyes! I had to do something.” Romeo inched close enough to slide his arm around Angelica’s waist as he steered her out of the crowd. If he played his cards right, he might have company in Mantua after all.


End file.
